


Written in Constellations, Spoken in Tongues

by Actually_Crowley



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Inkheart, M/M, Terminal Illness of a Parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 10:17:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18776266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actually_Crowley/pseuds/Actually_Crowley
Summary: Newton Geiszler has known since he was young that he had the ability to pull people and things out of books by reading passages aloud, but he's only ever done it twice.  So when characters he knows he hasn't read out start appearing from his favorite book, he must get to the bottom of not only who is responsible but why, all while trying to keep a great secret from his newly minted fiancé.





	Written in Constellations, Spoken in Tongues

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Basilintime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basilintime/gifts).



> This may not have been officially requested by you, Basilintime, but this is very loosely your fault, so this is my gift to you anyway.

Newton Geiszler stared into the drawer of his bedside table.  He wasn’t looking for anything in particular at least in the sense that he wasn’t looking for something he didn’t already know was there.  He’d taken a key he’d kept around his neck for five years and slid it into place in the lock of the old, antique night table. He’d found the table in a shop he’d always thought would have strategically more business if it added a ‘P’ and an ‘E’ to the end of its descriptor.

He stared into the drawer at a nondescript book without a real cover.  It had been one of those hardcover books whose actual cover was printed on a removable sleeve that young Newton had never, ever removed.  This had resulted in the well-loved thing being completely tattered by the time he was a teenager, and later, resulted in the sleeve barely holding together where the book bent.  Now the sleeve was folded carefully in a chest Newton knew for a fact was in his father’s attic somewhere. The book, title only readable by turning your head sideways and squinting at the spine, stayed with Newton, kept safe and sound and secret in a drawer with a lock in his Boston apartment.

The fabric cover was dingy and graying at the corners, but at some point, it had been a deep, singeing cyan.  The cloth was fray at the edges, but decades old glue seemed to be doing a perfectly good job of keeping most of the flat surface in place.  The outside was simple. The inside had shaped so much of Newton’s life, you’d think it was a sapient being with wise advice and a degree in child rearing.

It had dragons and wolf beasts and sea monsters.  Newton grew up to study reptiles and mammals and all forms of marine life.  It had magic and music, and Newton knew card tricks and could play piano and guitar and maybe a little flute if he could remember how to make the damn thing make noise.  It had a beautiful, lonely side character who loved the stars--

Newton was engaged to an Astronomer.  He should have known he had a type the way he’d never let that character go, but here he was, twenty five years after the first time he’d read about a lonely, beautiful man staring into the sky, making sure a beautiful man staring into the sky would never be lonely again.

He glanced down at his hands and spun the ring on his finger.  It was silver in color and had stars stamped into the sides. Every few imprints, one of those stars had a small stone, twinkling up at him.  It had taken the place of a ring he’d always worn with a skull on it, one that he’d panic-pulled off and forced onto his lover’s hand because he felt bad that he hadn’t thought of proposing first.

Not that Newton would have ever done it himself.  It wouldn’t have felt right.

He pulled the book out of the drawer, as he had done many times before, and opened it to an early page that had been dog-eared for convenience.  He sighed softly and reread for what must have been the seven-thousandth time a very important paragraph, silently, to himself, lips pressed tightly closed.

‘ _She stared upon the one man the Precursor supposedly feared and fought the urge to scoff.  He was, in a word, frail. His limbs were thin, struggling branches in weak sunlight, and his skin was pale like the moon.  His eyes shone dark, darker even than his umber hair, and darker than the dim he kept his mountain home. His long-fingered hands held startlingly tight to a cane to aid his unsteady gait, and his mouth pinched in a frown.  Mako could tell there was a story in that face. It was sharp against a life that made it sharp; it was hard against a pain she’d not been aware that he had, but she knew sadness-- loneliness-- when it was so plainly displayed._

_This was the man she needed to complete her quest.  And his name was-_ ’

A loud thud pulled Newton out of his trance, and he snapped the book shut.  “Hermann!?” He slid the book back into place and shut the drawer, vowing to remember to lock it later, running for the bathroom.

“I’m fine!” Called the soft voice of Hermann Gottlieb from the other side of the bathroom door.  “I knocked my cane over, I’m fine.” The door opened, and Newton was met with a wall of steam and the visage of his thin, robed, dark-eyed fiancé.  A mouth that had seen too many frowns pulled into a beautiful smile.  “See? Nothing’s injured. I promise.”

Newton sighed with relief and placed a hand over his chest.  “You’re gonna give a man a heart attack one of these days, dude.”

Hermann’s grin turned into half of a pout (the smile just would not let up), and he took a step forward, tucking a hand behind Newton’s head and stroking his thumb under his ear.  “Let’s hope it’s any man but you so you can continue worrying about me, hm?”

Newton leaned into the touch and smiled.  “Mm, that’s a shitty apology, but if you keep doing that thing with my ear, I might overlook it just this once.”

“My,” Hermann leaned his weight (how little it was) against Newton and nipped at his ear.  “If I’d known playing with your ears would get me my way, I’d have started doing it much earlier.”

Green eyes drifted closed as Newton’s arms came up around Hermann to brace him and pull him closer.  “Okay, that’s just cheating.” He pulled Hermann backwards, to Hermann’s delight, and toppled them back onto the bed.  Once they were still, he stole Hermann’s lips, and any words on them, with his own, pushing his fingers through Hermann’s dark hair.  He pulled back and smirked. “You’re on a fast track to needing another shower.”

“I may be on a faster track to not caring, but we shall see, won’t we?”  Hermann leaned back against the bed and the pillows, arms splayed on either side of his head as his robe threatened to come undone.  He lifted his good leg out of the robe and slid it behind one of Newton’s, drawing him closer. “I’ll just make you do laundry later.”

“I have had worse rewards for doing chores,” Newton said before swooping down and memorizing the contours of Hermann’s mouth again.

He’d lock the book up later.  It wasn’t like Hermann made a habit of opening the drawer anyway, especially when there were significantly sexier matters to attend to.

~

They had been engaged for all of a week now.  It was his first listless thought as he stared at the ceiling and tried his best to focus only on Hermann’s fingers tracing the intricate tattoos on his chest.  At some point, the robe around Hermann had been sacrificed to the floor for the greater good, and Newton’s shirt, pants, and otherwise had followed suit. Now, after the heavy breathing had tapered off into something relaxed and peaceful, Hermann’s body was pressed against his side, bad leg gently resting over Newt’s where it was comfortable.  Hermann’s head was lying on Newton’s shoulder, and the fingers tracing the lines were beginning to get sleepy and lazy.

Newton’s hand was also busy being buried in Hermann’s hair, dull nails gently scraping through the short hair there and up into the longer locks on top of his head.  When he trailed it down, he kept going past the hairline and painted warm trails over Hermann’s own tattoos.

They were the only marks on Hermann’s body; words bent and folded from his left shoulder and crawled up the back of his neck.  Even the highest collars had trouble hiding it, but thankfully Hermann was a chilly thing in most weather, and he always had a good scarf tucked around him for warmth.

Not that Hermann hid the marks on purpose.  He had no real reason to, and they stood to be a visual cue for anyone who might know what the marks might mean-- Anyone who might recognize them, and thus, recognize him.

Five years prior, when they had met, Hermann was a lost soul with no memory and no family trying to claim him.  His strange case was sensationalized in the city news for about three months before he felt it was clear that nobody missed him.  Nobody was coming for him. But Newton was there. He was there every step of the way, and gave Hermann anything and everything he needed.  He gave him a place to stay, and kept him fed. He helped him gain a legal identity and helped him go to school when it looked like his old life was bust.  It wasn’t difficult to see how Hermann had fallen in love with him, all things considered. He’d even suggested his name: Hermann Gottlieb.

Now, still without the memories that told his story and made up his past, Hermann laid in Newton’s arms, seemingly perfectly content.  At the very least, he was content enough to propose to Newton nearly seven days ago (despite a bum leg and the effort it would take to A. kneel on the ground and B. get back up again when it was all over), so there was something to be said about Newton’s particular brand of care.

Newton really didn’t think he deserved any of this.

“We should see your father today,” Hermann said, the laziness deeply settling into his voice.  “Tell him the news.”

Newton went a bit tense.

Hermann tilted his head up to see Newton from a better angle.  “Oh, tell me you haven’t told him already. I was hoping to be present.”

“No, no, of course I haven’t!  I just thought… I mean, ya know, maybe I could call him.”  Newton half shrugged. “That way, we don’t have to get outta bed.”

When he glanced down at Hermann, he found the man arching a brow at him.  “Newton.”

Newton blinked.  “What?”

“As appealing as not moving from this spot sounds, it seems an awful lot like you don’t want us to see your father about this.”  Hermann’s brow stayed skeptical.

“What!?”  Newton tried to keep the scandalized expression on his face subtle, but he knew there was no turning his dial down from eleven, and he also knew that he was only ever good at lying about one specific thing; this wasn’t it.  “I have _no_ idea what you mean, Herms.”

Hermann’s amused skepticism slowly morphed into something sad but understanding.  “...Do you think he won’t accept it? ...Accept me?” The question was too small for even Hermann’s soft voice.

Newton’s indignity at himself boiled, and he spun to face Hermann properly.  He curled his arms around him and captured that hooked leg between his own, piecing them together like bits of a puzzle.  “Whoa, hold on, that is absolutely _not_ even a little true.  If anything, he’ll probably be mad that I waited so long for this that it wound up being your idea.  He loves you, dude, like so much.”

“I’ve only seen him a handful of times,” Hermann continued.  “Either we’ve been too busy, or he’s been too ill. I can’t help but assume I’ll have to prove myself, which I’m more than happy to attempt, mind you.”

“You don’t have to prove anything to anyone," Newton promised.  He leaned forward and pressed his lips to Hermann's forehead. "Not my father, _or_ me.  Okay? We'll go see him and tell him today, I'm sorry I even suggested anything else."

Hermann made a little noise of amusement, caught between the laugh and a sigh.  "Goodness sake, Newt, you don't have to backpedal so hard. Is there a reason you're so hesitant?"

Newton bit his lip.  There absolutely was, but he couldn't say the truth yet.  At least, not all of it. "I… I'm not a fan of confrontation, even if the end result is good.  I like to be able to escape the stressful situation easy, and hanging up is easier than running away, you know?"  He shimmied down the bed and ducked his head into Hermann’s shoulder.

Hermann snorted and ducked his head to press a kiss into Newton’s hair.  “I promise you there won’t be any reason for you to run. And if somehow I’m wrong, which I don’t often make a habit of being, you’re more than welcome to hide behind me.”

Newton sighed and buried his nose further into Hermann’s collarbone.  “I’m not gonna use you as a shield against my dad, dude. You’re gonna be right, I know you are, it’s just… the anxiety talking.”

Hermann rubbed his back, finding more tattoos and tracing those now.  “I know, darling. And we don’t have to go anywhere until you’ve ‘made anxiety your bitch’ as you say.”  Newton felt Hermann’s chuckle roll through his ribcage and travel through his bones.

Newton smiled.  He rolled Hermann onto his back again and kissed him.  “Anxiety is already my bitch as long as I’ve got you, babe.”

“Happy to help, my love.”

~

Newton stood outside his father’s hospice room and stared at the door as if it offended him.  He held a snack canister to his chest so tight, the ring Hermann had given him was digging into his finger.

His father had been diagnosed as terminal a year ago.  They’d given him, at best, eight months to live, but Newton prided himself on coming from a very stubborn line of genes.  True to form of sticking it to the man, his father Jacob was hanging on, and hanging on tight. The prognosis kept on tacking another extension on every time they gave them an estimation.  Now, as the doctors liked to remind him every time he came in, they were looking at anywhere from a few weeks to two months. Jacob was not well, but he still forced a smile whenever he saw his son and never let on that he was feeling anything but perfectly content.

Newton was not in any hurry to ruin the mood.

Behind him, Hermann, clad still in his winter coat and scarf, squeezed his shoulders.  “Easy now, dear. Do you want me to knock?”

Newton shook his head.  “No, I-... I got it.” He pulled his ringed hand away from the snacks to try and get blood flow back to his poor finger and knocked.

“There’s no way that’s my son out there being polite and knocking,” Came Jacob’s call back.

Newton snickered and opened the door leading the way into the room.  “Sorry dad, Hermann’s got me trained.” He let Hermann sneak by and lean his cane against a desk, and he turned to face his father fully.

Seeing his dad in the state he was in was always hard.  He was pale and looking thinner that he should. He looked tired and resolved (that one hurt the most; nobody should have to actively be ready for death).

Jacob was reading from the newspaper as they entered with shaky hands, looking only mildly interested in its topics.  “How ‘bout it, Newt. If I read this politician’s campaign speech out loud, you think some of what he’s promising might actually happen?”

Newton smirked and hurried over to hug him, not bothering to remove his jacket first.  “Good to see you, dad.”

“Good to see you too, salamander.”  Jacob pulled away and beamed. “What’d you bring me?”

“Wow!  ‘How are you doing, Newt?  Having fun at work? Those kids taking you seriously?’ Oh I’m great, dad, I still have to scrub dicks off my whiteboard after freshman classes, but at least my seniors actually care about their grades.”  Newt crossed his arms. Then with an indignant pout, he held up the plastic jar. “I brought you Gerber puffs.”

“Ooh, apple or banana?”

Newt scoffed.  “Uh, apple, obviously.”

“This is why you’re my favorite son.”  Jacob reached out and snatched the canister out of Newton’s hand with a grin.  “All right, you can go!” He teased.

Newton laughed.  “I mean hey, we _could_ leave, but I also brought you a Hermann, and he’s kind of a big deal.”

He shifted aside so Hermann could switch places with him and take Jacob’s hand.  “Wonderful to see you again, Mr. Geiszler.”

Jacob laughed and pulled Hermann in for a hug.  “Oh please, you’ve been putting up with my son for long enough, I think you’re free to call me Jacob.”

Hermann laughed, and the sound filled Newton’s chest and pushed out some of his nerves.  “That’s kinda… funny you’d say that, actually,” He tried finding Hermann’s hand once he was freed from the famous Geiszler hug.

Jacob tilted his head with inquisitive eyes, and Newton felt the words freeze in his throat.  Hermann must have felt them lodge there and kept on talking for him. “We actually came here to bring you some… hopefully good news.”  Hermann tugged Newt’s hand forward so Jacob could see the ring.

He stared at it for a while.  Newton forgot to breathe, and if Hermann’s stillness said anything, so had he.  Jacob finally lifted his eyes to Hermann again. “...You’re engaged?”

“Yes, sir.”  Hermann stood fast.

Jacob leaned further up in bed and kept his eyes right on Hermann’s.  “Then it’s ‘dad’ to you, young man.”

The air refilled the room, and Hermann laughed and squeezed Newton’s hand again.  Newton deflated and planted his face in Hermann’s shoulder.

Jacob set his snacks aside and held his arms out as Newt finally rounded the end of the bed to sit in one of the chairs.  “Oh come on, Newt, there’s no way you were worried about this.”

“I- Ya know- I know.  I knew. I wasn’t! I was-”  Newt hissed as he leaned back in his chair.  “I dunno what I was thinking, okay? Paranoia brain likes to disregard any and all evidence to the contrary of whatever the big anxiety button is, you know that.”

Jacob snickers at him as Hermann moves to the corner of the room.  “It’s about time you did something, honestly. I was beginning to wonder if the two of you had eloped without telling me.”

“Oh I wouldn’t give Newton too much credit.  I asked him,” said Hermann as he lit a candle on a small table.

“What!?”  Jacob turned in mock fury at Newt.  “Newt, there should have been a ring on that boy’s finger months ago!  What’s the matter with you!”

“Hey, it is not my fault he beat me to it, okay?”

Hermann hummed a giggle.  “Honestly, I’m quite happy to have had the chance.  I expect Newt would have taken me to a Battlebots match and tried to propose there, so perhaps I’ve dodged a bullet.”  Hermann unbutton his coat.

Newton’s blissful smile slowly fell away.  If the coat was coming off, so was the scarf.  And if the scarf was coming off-

“Where did you end up?”  Jacob asked, oblivious to Newton’s sudden panic.

Hermann shuffled his coat off his thin shoulders and draped it carefully over the arm of a love seat.  “The Aquarium.” He gripped the scarf.

“You sure you wanna take those off, Herms?”  Newton nearly barked. “You, the human icicle?  You’re- You’re gonna be cold in like, five minutes,” He added, trying to pass his nerves off an nonchalant.

Hermann arched a brow at him.  “Well I’m sure if I get cold, you’d be willing to sacrifice your arm for the cause.”  He smirked and whipped the scarf off and turned away to hang it over his coat. Newton’s mouth twitched at one corner, and he shot his father a nervous glance.

Jacob was looking directly at the script markings on the back of Hermann’s neck.  His eyes had locked onto them and not let go. His smile remained in place, but Newt knew that there was a hidden feeling behind it now.  It was waiting, crouched behind a bush until its target was vulnerable.

Before Hermann could sit down, Jacob leaned forward.  “Oh, while you’re up. I’m sorry, but… I’ve been seeing other visitors go by with a bag of those pretzels with peanut butter in them.  Would it be too much trouble for me to ask you to track down where they keep finding them?”

Hermann gave him a short nod.  “Oh of course! I believe they’re just in the waiting room, I can go get one for you.”  He retrieved his cane from the desk and straightened his tie.

“You’re sure it’s all right on your leg?”  Jacob asked.

“It’s better if I walk on it more often than not, don’t worry about me.”  He then turned a loving eye to Newt. “Do you want anything while I’m there?”

Newton shook his head and tried to pretend that everything wasn’t about to go up in smoke.  “Not really, just… don’t be long, huh?”

Hermann’s pleasant face softened even more.  He took a few steps to Newton and tilted his head up, kissing his lips deeply.  “I’ll try. But take this as a reprieve, hm? Once we’re married, it’s going to be awfully difficult to be rid of me then.”  He placed another kiss on Newton’s nose and stood up straight. “I’ll be back.”

With that, Hermann left.  The door swung shut of its own accord.  Jacob’s smile fell. “Interesting ink he has there.”

Newton swallowed and kept staring after the door.  “Uh, yeah. Sure is.”

“I remember when you first told me about him, you know.”  Jacob continued. “You told me you’d found the poor thing roaming the streets in the dead of night with no memory.  A rare case of seemingly permanent retrograde amnesia, you said.”

Newton closed his eyes and turned back to the bed.  “...Yeah.”

When he looked up at Jacob finally, the older man was sitting almost completely up.  It was nice to see that systematically dying hadn’t taken away from his father’s ability to look so very disappointed in him.  “That wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that his memory was _left behind_ after he was improperly read out of a book by an inexperienced Silvertongue, now would it?”

Newton pressed his lips together tightly and looked away.  He gripped the bridge of his nose. “I can explain, okay…?”

“I should hope that you can!”  Jacob was sitting up fully now.  “I can’t believe you, Newt, you remember what happened last time!”

“No that’s not fair, last time I didn’t know what would happen.  I was eight.” Newton gestured at the door. “And he’s not some weird creature!  He’s a human being!”

“He’s a human being with a life, and you _stole_ that from him!”

Newt went tense and swallowed his nerves.  This was exactly what he’d been afraid of when he brought Hermann here.

Five years ago, in the middle of a storm that took out the power in his building, Newton had been reminiscing with his favorite book by flashlight.  In truth, he’d had a rather awful day, and he broke out the book anytime his mood was less than stellar, so he was surprised it held up as well as it had.  He knew better than to read anything aloud, since he had once almost been caught in the claws of something horrible. But upon reaching nearly the end of a book he’d cried to hundreds of times, and having been just emotionally compromised enough to think that maybe it was a good idea, he’d turned back to the beginning of the story and pondered the paragraph that introduced his favorite character.  He studied it. He ran his finger over the name and considered. Then, shaky from lack of practice, he’d opened his mouth and he’d read. He stumbled through the words as shame of disobeying his father and fear that it would actually work came crashing over him. He’d thought he’d performed so badly that it hadn’t worked at all.

He hadn’t expected to find a very confused and scared Hermann outside on the rain slick streets.  Drenched robes fell exactly where they had been described, and he was covered in details so ornate and accurate that there was no mistaking who he was.

And Newt had decided, as soon as he had gotten the shivering man inside, he wouldn’t be sending him back.  It wasn’t as if the content of the book changed. The words were always the same in every copy he found. He’d checked.

“It’s not- I didn’t _steal_ anything from him, okay?”  Newton ran his hands through his hair rougher than he’d meant to and looked at the floor.  “I didn’t mean for it to actually work, and I didn’t mean to fuck it up so badly! But I couldn’t just… I couldn’t just put him back.  I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“What kind of opportunity are we talking, Newt!?  What book is he from?”

“‘Luminous Lost’.”  Newt said, short and to the point.  He lifted his head to meet Jacob’s eyes.  He knew the older man knew the tale.

He watched understanding wash over Jacob’s face.  His eyes went from anger to sympathy in seconds. “...’Luminous Lost’.  The book was always your favorite, and Hermann-... _Hermann._  Oh, Newt…”

“Don’t ‘oh Newt’ me.  You get it now, right?”  Newt finally looked away, down to a hole forming in the knee of his jeans.  “All of this, the whole… the proposal and everything; it wasn’t planned. It just happened, and I really-” He took a shaky breath.  “I really love him, and I can’t send him back.”

Jacob slowly leaned back into his pillows again.  “You need to tell him, salamander.”

Newt’s chest felt like it was caving in.  “I’m- I’m going to.”

“When?”

“I _don’t-!_ ”  Newton stopped himself from shouting and squeezed his eyes shut.  “...I don’t know.”

The door opened behind Newt, and he was afraid to turn around.  Hermann’s cane assisted steps halted once he was through the door as he paused to take in the mood.  “Oh,” Hermann began, sounding sheepish and a little nervous. “...Should I give you a little more time to talk?”

Jacob’s lips pulled into a soft smile.  “Hermann, come here.” He reached over and patted a chair on the opposite side of the bed from Newt.  “I want to tell you something.”

“Dad-” Newton started, but his father waved him quiet.

Hermann wore a nervous concern on his face, but he walked around the bed and sat where Jacob had indicated anyway.  His shoulders were hunched by his ears. “Is… Is it that you don’t actually approve…?”

“Don’t even start with that,” Jacob interrupted.  “I haven’t known you long, but I know more about you than you think.  Maybe even more than you do. And I promise you that god himself couldn’t walk in here and be a better fit for my boy.”  He reached out and took Hermann’s hands. “I just want to fill you in on some things that may be difficult to understand.”

Hermann blinked.  Then he nodded.  Newton went back to holding his breath.

Jacob continued.  “Newt can be a hard boy to keep up with.  He sets his mind to something, and it’s tough to pull him out of it.  He rambles on about things neither of us could ever hope to understand.  He is so, _so_ smart…  But my boy, he’s not very wise sometimes.”

Hermann laughed.  Newton gave an indignant groan and covered his face.  “Go easy on him, Jacob, I don’t know that his ego can take the blow,” Hermann teased.

“His ego is impenetrable and you know it.”  Jacob smirked. “Just be patient with him. He’ll piss you off, and he’ll upset you.  He doesn’t always make the best choices, but my Newt-... My son never makes a big decision without putting everyone else before himself.  Remember that. All right?”

Hermann’s amusement melted into something softer and sweeter.  He squeezed Jacob’s hands. “I will remember. Thank you… dad.”

Jacob wore a tight, emotional smile and tugged Hermann close again to kiss his forehead.

Newt settled back in his chair, red face, red eyed, and embarrassed.  He was still scared. He was always scared that any day now, Hermann would regain his memories and then leave Newt and never look back.  He knew he would have to tell Hermann one day, but when was the best time for that sort of information? After the wedding? Just before?  Was there really a good time at _all_ to tell someone that their entire life was out of their reach because it was stuck in a work of fiction?

Newt tried not to think about it as Hermann had stood again.  He made his way to Newton and threw his arms around him. Newton inhaled something that felt like a sob before it could escape and hooked an arm around Hermann’s waist, yanking him down to sit in his lap.  Hermann yelped and laughed and crossed one leg over the other once he was in place, and Newton buried his face in his shoulder. “I hate you both.”

Jacob chuckled.  “That’s a damn shame, salamander, because we _love_ you.”

~

Jacob had only been able to force the energy for another half hour before his exhaustion got the better of him.  Hermann had given him one more, tight hug, and Newton had planted a hard, loving smooch right on his fuzzy hairline.  He’d muttered to him a shaky thank you while Hermann’s back was turned, and it was answered with a telling look-- one that told him he still really ought to hurry up and tell Hermann the truth before he found out some other way.

Newton knew he should.  He knew he honestly should have done it years ago.  He should have told Hermann the minute he’d brought him inside and found out that Hermann had no memory of who he was.

But he didn’t.  Now they were here.

Night fell hours ago, and Hermann had been nodding off as they watched yet another episode of Chopped fly by.  Newton had nudged him, and they went about getting ready for bed.

Newton laid down first, and Hermann situated himself around him as always, tucking his pained leg somewhere comfortable and snuggling into the depths of Newton’s throat.  Hermann left lazy kisses along the inked lines on his collarbone and up to Newton’s ear, another nightly tradition on Hermann’s part. As the kisses grew lazy, Newton knew that Hermann would be asleep very, very soon.

“...Have I ever told you about my favorite book?”  Newt heard himself ask before he could stop it.

Hermann didn’t move, but he took a soft breath.  “Mmno… I don’t believe-” He paused to yawn, “-That you have.”

Newton bit his lip and kept his gaze on the ceiling.  “It’s pretty great actually. It’s about a girl who’s world is covered in darkness, and she goes to find the starlight to make it all better again.”

“Sounds like a beautiful story,” Hermann slurred, unconsciousness trying hard to claim him as its own.

“I grew up with it, it’s kinda… a really important story to me.”  Newton sucked in a short breath.

Hermann hummed through the veil of sleep and pulled his limbs around Newton just a little tighter before going lax.  “...Perhaps you can read it to me one day.”

Hermann went a certain kind of still after that.  Newton knew that meant he was asleep, and he wouldn’t hear anything else he had to say.  “...Yeah,” Newt mumbled, leaning down and pressing his lips on Hermann’s forehead. He left them there and breathed in the scent of Hermann’s hair.  “...One day.” He closed his eyes and fought off the guilt that had been building from the moment he’d decided to keep Hermann in the dark.

One day would have to happen soon or the guilt-- or perhaps even something else-- was going to eat him alive.

~

**Author's Note:**

> This is an Inkheart AU, but I am taking hella liberties with certain plot elements and magic mechanisms here, so wish me luck.
> 
> (And officially, in public writing on the internet so I can't take it back, the next thing I'm working on will be N.exe. I think I've finally busted through my writer's block with this, so I'm back in business, bitches!)


End file.
